Like the Gryffindor She Deserved
by Jezzi1996
Summary: Snape's death from the perspective of Snape.


Voldemort had summoned me to the Shrieking Shack. I despised the man, loathed him. He was evil to very core. He killed Lily Evans, my Lily, my first and only true friend. The only woman I ever have, and ever will, love. And he killed the man she loved. And he tried to kill her son, the little boy who was half Lily, with her eyes and her heart. And that was inexcusable. But I had to continue this charade of serving him so that I might bring him down. And right now, all I could do is tell Harry what he is and what he needs to do about it- Nagini was being kept by Voldemort's side, protected inside the strange ball of magic floating in the air. "My lord, I ask you to let me go out there and fight- I can find Potter and bring him to you."

"I don't see why you should go, Severus."

"I merely wish to serve you my Lord, their resistance is crumbling-"

"-and it is doing so without your help," Voldemort said to me, his strangely high and cold voice chilling me to the very core. "Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there… almost."

I needed to find Potter. I was sure he would come to Voldemort on his own- it was my assumption that that snake was a horcrux and Harry somehow knew this, but he would certainly put up a fight and try his hardest to survive and get out of there. But he needed to die. The last remnant of Lily Evans and her hauntingly green and deep eyes had to die. And once I had fulfilled my duty and did all I could to kill the monster standing before me, I would rejoin Lily. I would beg her for forgiveness, and to be allowed to be a part of her family- beg to be a part of the loving little group they had.

"Let me find the boy. Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord. Please." I walked towards him, and he stood up. His eyes seemed, if possible, colder than I had ever seen them.

"I have a problem, Severus," Voldemort murmured.

"My Lord?" I asked. Ugh. He didn't deserve to be called a lord. That would imply he was at least in some ways good- which he certainly wasn't. He raised the wand, the wand he took from Dumbledore's tomb as if he had the right to, as he looked at it seemingly lost in thought.

"Why doesn't it work for me, Severus?" This… didn't seem likely to end well.

"My- my Lord?" I asked, for while I knew where this would probably lead, I didn't know for sure and hoped that pleading ignorance could buy me some time. "I do not understand. You- you have performed extraordinary magic with that wand."

"No," he said, "I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, but this wand… no. It has not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no difference between this wand and the one I procured from Ollivander all those years ago." Voldemort seemed calm, but there was this nearly palpable anger filling the air. "No difference," he said again.

I did not speak, I could not figure out what to say that might get me out of this decrepit shack in back into the action. I cannot die before telling Harry what he had to do to kill the monster standing before me. I won't deserve Lily's forgiveness if I haven't done all I could to destroy the man who killed her.

I watched as Voldemort began to walk around the room, seeming to plan out his next words.

"I have thought long and hard, Severus… Do you know why I have called you back from the battle?" I refused to look at the monster before me and instead kept my eyes fixed on the snake floating just beside him, slowly coiling and uncoiling in its freaky floating ball of magic.

"No, my Lord, but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Potter." I needed to find him, I needed to tell him. I needed to do this, to complete Dumbledore's task. I owed it to Lily.

"You sound like Lucius. Neither of you understands Potter as I do. He does not need finding. Potter will come to me. I know his weakness, you see, his one great flaw. He will hate watching the others struck down around him, knowing that it is for him that it happens. He will want to stop it at any cost. He will come."

"But my Lord," I began. I had one last attempt, one trick up my sleeve. He knew that Harry needed to die by his hands. Surely he must fear that Potter will be accidentally killed by another… "he might be killed accidentally by one other than yourself-"

"My instructions to my Death Eaters have been perfectly clear. Capture Potter. Kill his friends- the more, the better- but do not kill him.

"But it is of you that I wished to speak, Severus, Not Harry Potter. You have been very valuable to me. Very valuable."

"My Lord knows I seek only to serve him. But- let me go and find the by, my Lord. Let me bring him to you. I know I can-" I fought to keep the desperation out of my voice. He surely thought that I was acting strangely, but perhaps he would attribute this to my knowledge that he was probably going to kill me any moment now. In a way, it was.

"I have told you, no!" Voldemort screamed. The red of his eyes now kept me staring at them like a deer in the headlights. "My concern at the moment, Severus, is what will happen when I finally meet the boy!"

"My Lord, there can be no question, surely-?"

"-but there _is_ a question, Severus. There is."

He stopped suddenly, running the wand through his hideous white fingers, staring me down.

"Why did both wands I have used fail when directed at Harry Potter?"

"I- I cannot answer that, my Lord."

"Can't you?" He was now openly hostile.

"My wand of yew did everything of which I asked it, Severus, except to kill Harry Potter. Twice It failed. Ollivander told me under torture of the twin cores, told me to take another's wand. I did so, but Lucius's wand shattered upon meeting Potter's."

"I- I have no explanation, my Lord."

I could not look at Voldemort any longer. I kept my eyes on Nagini, who glared at me from within her magical protection.

"I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took itfrom its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore."

I looked back at Voldemort, knowing that death was soon approaching and ready to face it with courage. I would die the Gryffindor I had yearned to be in my first year- I would die the Gryffindor Albus had seen me as, and I would die the Gryffindor that deserved Lily.

"My Lord,- let me go to get the boy-"

"All this long night, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here," he said, practically whispering as if lost in thought, ignoring my feeble attempts to leave, "wondering, wondering, why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner… and I think I have the answer.

"Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen."

I wasn't sure what I thought would happen if I tried to offer to bring him Potter one last time, but I needed to tell Potter. "My Lord-"

"The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine."

"My Lord!" I protested, raising my wand to defend myself in whatever way I could.

"It cannot be any other way, I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last."

I did not fear death; I was sure he would use a quick _Avada Kedavra_ and I would be dead, quick and painless, free from this bleak world without Lily. Voldemort swiped his wand through the air, and for a brief moment, I wasn't quite sure of what was going on. But then the sphere of magic which encased Nagini began to roll towards me through the air, and I began to fear death. I think I may have yelled in surprise at Voldemort's vicious choice of death for me, but I got myself under control as it took my head into the cage with the vile snake.

Voldemort hissed something in parseltongue, and I knew my end had finally come. I was finally going to go. Perhaps Nagini would be quick, and I would be dead before it got too painful.

She wasn't. It hurt. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. I may have screamed, but things went black from the pain and it may have just been the horrors of my life flashing before my eyes. I fought to get the strange cage off of me, for I would surely die now and it would only hurt more the longer I stayed in here with the monster he called a pet. I collapsed to the ground, waiting for death to take me away from this terrible place- this terrible life.

"I regret it," I heard Voldemort say, no regret or remorse in his voice at all. He pointed his wand at Nagini's cage and lifted it off of me. He disappeared, clearly not wanting to watch a lackey bleed out before him. In death, I found, by senses were sharpened- perhaps it was the adrenaline pumping through my veins, the fight or flight instinct- and I thought I heard someone whisper "Harry!" near me. From the corner of my eye, I saw a crate lift into the air. I could have cried when I saw a foot without a body as it would seem, appear from the passage from the Whomping Willow. I tried to stop the bleeding, as much as I could. I needed to give him what he needed to know. Harry threw off his father's cloak, and I kept my eyes as open as I could so that I could see those incredible eyes as I tried to tell him. But I knew I wouldn't be able to tell him like this. I let my memories of what Dumbledore had told me over these years, my memories to show Harry that I never wanted to kill Dumbledore and that I could be trusted. I couldn't help myself but think of Lily as I saw the concern in his eyes- concern I certainly didn't deserve- as he pulled me closer.

I tried as hard as I could to tell him to take the memories- and at first all I could get out was a rough noise. But I eventually was able to croak something out.

"Take… it… Take… it…" It seemed he finally noticed the memories leaking out of me, and seemed helpless as to what he could do to collect it. I saw Granger beside him, conjuring a flask and shoving it into his hands. I continued to let the memories flow as he collected them into the flask. Finally, it seemed he was done- and I was glad, because I wouldn't be alive for much longer. I couldn't even hold onto his robes properly anymore. He looked away, helpless, and I truly began to fear the end quickly approaching. Lily's eyes had kept me anchored but as they left me, I knew not what to do.

"Look… at… me…" I begged. His eyes met mine, and the fear was gone, replace by acceptance and peace. I wanted to thank him, tell him, as everyone else had gotten to, that he had his mother's eyes. But as I began to speak, I felt the blackness embrace me. It was warm, and comforting, and it smelled like Lily.


End file.
